


Falling snow

by Fighting_for_Creativity



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019, Bucky's point of view, Canon Compliant, Ficlet, Gen, Hurt, poor Winter baby, save Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22050826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fighting_for_Creativity/pseuds/Fighting_for_Creativity
Summary: Sometimes the Asset dreamt.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019





	Falling snow

**Author's Note:**

> A really short ficlet of mine.
> 
> I wasn't going to post this at first but here it is.  
> I'm not sure about the tags but I guess better be safe than sorry so I tagged it as hurt.
> 
> Fill for BBB 19: square C1 Canon Compliant.

If he was allowed to sleep, he dreamt. Not very often, but sometimes. Most of the time there were no dreams, only a black void. The cryo-chamber was a different matter. He wasn’t really asleep as much as that he felt dead. Being frozen over and over and over again, solely to be unfrozen whenever he was useful for his handlers. Always in a state between alive and dead. Except for the time with the girls. 

When he did dream, he dreamt of snow. Endless white with nowhere to go, nowhere to be. He felt colder than normal after those dreams. He dreamt of mountains, covered in snow. He dreamt of a train rails. The Asset knew that to be more of a memory. Although he should report that, that and all his other dreams, he felt oddly protective over this. After all, he didn’t own anything, seeing as he was a weapon. But he owned those dreams. A little treasure of his own, the only comfort in his existence, even though, they left him angry, hurt, sad. Even though it all confused him. They were comfort for him as well.

He didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse.

Seeing that dreaming was rare already, there was one recurring thing, one tiny little piece of it, which was even more rare. 

There was a boy, pale and blonde and undeniably sickly. The boy shivered, always freezing, coughing widely, making him even more frail. Yet those blue eyes sparkled with a fire. A fire so hot, that they were able to melt the white landscape. A fire daring the Asset to come closer, to finally know what warmth meant. Coaxing him to feel secure, safe, hopeful. To just feel something other than cold again. 

However, it didn’t last. Whenever he reached out for the small boy, the dream shifted. He found himself suddenly in the air, a man with the same eyes of the boy, but a look of panic on the face, reaching for him, all the while he was falling. He falls down, somewhere. In front of him, the man and mountains. Beneath him the snow. But he never landed. The Asset was always falling. Falling like the snow around him.


End file.
